Trusting love
by Fate4Destiny
Summary: Francis (France) x reader x child!Matthew (Canada). Lemon. Sometimes there was nothing to do but have some faith to keep your love.


**Warnings: lemon.**

**A/N: Well... Hope you enjoy. This one I didn't write Francis accent (for example ''ere' for 'here') and I hope my French is reasonable. Please review~**

**Pairings: Francis (France) x reader x child!Matthew (Canada)**

You put your hands on the slightly unshaven chin and softly pressed your lips against his. They were like rose petals, soft, silky, and knew exactly where to put themselves. You felt his fingers thread to your hair and you ran your fingertips down his chest, his dress shirt open and hanging loosely around his otherwise naked figure. The room was quiet and the only sound were your moans as Francis slipped his hands underneath your shirt and began softly rubbing your breasts.

"Je t'aime, mon amour."

"Je t'aime aussi."

Francis gave a smile into your skin and began hooking your legs around him. He held you in his arms, his body warm against yours. You gave a small laugh as his stubble pricked against your neck, his tongue swirling the small red marks it left. You tilted your head so he would have more space. His hands quickly undid your shirt and he pulled it straight off your body. You gave a shiver at the breeze then sucked on Francis's earlobe. He gave a deep purr of French love words as you softly stroked his hard member. You clung closer and bowed your head enough to gingerly bite his nipples.

Precum soon dripped onto your bare stomach and over your pants. You then gave him a smile and watched him briefly close his eyes, a moan leaving his lips. You softly licked the white substance up and felt Francis grip your hair to hold your close. Your fingers delicately played at his sides and his breathing came in a quick pant for a moment. You slipped him into your mouth, crawling before him, just as you heard the sound of door being opened. The soft click filled the room and made it past my deep breathing and incoherent sounds. You dropped Francis who quickly yanked his shirt together. He then draped your shirt over you before looking at who it was. You joined him looking while clutching the shirt.

Violet eyes drawn in innocence looked at you, and you were taken aback for a moment. The same pale pink lips, the same silky blond hair, and Francis bowing his head was only further proof.

"F- Francis, is he yours?"

The Frenchman didn't say anything then looked up his boy.

"You told me you were staying with your brother."

The boy said nothing and you felt my heart shatter. A brother? Francis had another women in his life as serious as you? After all the conversations of becoming parents, only for him to be already a father of two. And the worst part of it all, he didn't trust you enough to tell me. Were you simply not good enough? You knew he was a flirt, but his loyalty for you shone through. But now...?

"Matthieu, please go to your room. We'll speak later."

The boy nodded and left, closing the door behind him. He was a young child and you began to wonder how much of you he saw.

You felt a kiss on the back of your shoulder and Francis slipped a finger in front of your lips.

"I thought he was with Arthur, cheri."

"It doesn't really matter where he is now. He saw what he saw. Why didn't you tell me you were a father? Why did you make me assume you always lived alone?"

Francis slowly gulped and you pushed him firmly away, getting dressed properly. You pulled your shirt on and then looked around to find your shoes.

"Cheri, arrêt. Stop. Please, listen to me."

"You could have told me. I like kids. We wanted our own. How could we start a family if you already have one? What we're you thinking when we spoke about it?"

You watched Francis sit on the edge of his bed and he slowly looked at you with sad eyes.

"I've been with a lot of women. I've slept around a lot. I've never hidden that. You're the only one who understands. You took all my bad points and saw the best. But I know women. I've seen them run away from the idea of having children. I didn't want you to run away to. I'm scared of having the person I care for leaving. Which is why I leave. Why I let them beg. I'm a god damned imbecile. Je n'ai aucune idée about us. But it's a constant haze de l'armour-"

"Francis, chose a language."

The Frenchman looked up at you then stood up. He then came closer to you as you backed up into a wall.

"Francis, no. Don't seduce me into forgiveness. Fran- no, non. "

"Why must we speak in any language then but love?"

The words were purred and you knew you'd fall into them again. Instead you quickly pushed him away and stormed out of the room. You heard him shout your name and you quickly caught the eyes of the violet eyed boy. Matthew said nothing and neither did you.

You then yanked the door open and left the sprawling house. Your shoes tapped against the stoned path as you heard France thud on the inside of the door. He screamed your name and tears wet your eyes. You just needed to be alone for awhile.

~XxX~

You were home about half an hour later, there was thankfully not too much traffic. The more distance you could between you two the better. You collapsed on your bed with your eyes soaked in tears. You picked up your phone to call a friend when you realized Francis already placed a dozen calls on it and texted you at least twenty times.

You threw it to the end of your bed as you curled up underneath your blankets. You loved Francis, you truly did. But this was something which was too severe to brush off. How could he not trust you to stay? If he didn't tell you about his son then it was just proof he didn't want you in his family. You cried yourself to sleep.

~XxX~

As much as you would love to spend all day in bed, life would move on. You couldn't much enthusiasm in it though. You sipped a cappuccino and waited for those last seconds to pass by. The last seconds where Francis would always stumble in to teach his class while he looked drunk. His students got a kick out of it but Francis usually sobered up quickly. He'd speak about European history and art with such charisma you'd believe anything he'd say, no matter how foolish it sounded. He made his students love it no matter how pointless they thought the class would be. You fell in love with so much more than just the class though.

After you graduated Francis had gotten you a part-time job as a teacher's assistant as you worked towards the rest of your degree. It was always so soothing around him, even when you wanted to smack him for flirting with other students. But now, it was so terribly different.

You heard the door open and looked up to see Francis walk in. He looked like he hadn't slept a single second and he could have also aged another ten years. As he rubbed bloodshot eyes someone quipped about him being in a hangover. He didn't answer and when he walked past me his deep pools of baby blue, now with a pink tint, you wanted to pity him. His eyes held his pleading as he tried to keep the rest of his expression steady.

You held out the rest of my cappuccino, feeling guilt. It was the first time since you worked with him where you hadn't brought him coffee. He slipped his hands in his pockets and turned his back to you as he wrote something on the chalkboard.

He began lecturing about it but you knew his heart wasn't in it. The way his voice sounded dry and he spoke the French terms as if the language was bitter. His voice was monotone and you wanted to comfort the poor man right there. It was so hard to tell yourself you were the one who was the most hurt. But Francis always expressed his emotions so beautifully, you may have as well stabbed him in the back, literally.

Since your help was unneeded, you left soon after class started. You avoided Francis the entire day through.

~XxX~

You were placing your books in a bag when you heard footsteps behind you. You zipped your bag and were going to turn around after completing the task. Instead you felt hands cover your eyes and you gave a yelp. Another hand went over your mouth and you began to breath deeply, panicked.

"Don't worry, mon cheri, it's moi."

You gave a sigh of relief but Francis didn't move his hands. You mumbled incoherently as he sat down, pulling you onto his lap. You tried not to lean into him as he spoke again.

"I love you. I'm just a drunk womanizer without you. Please come back to me, I'll never hold another secret from you again. Everything you say about liking my child, it's not true. You would have ran. You would have left and never come back. I did what I could to keep you."

"I would have staid. You should have given me the chance!"

"I didn't want to risk losing you. Je t'aime. Please, let me make it up to you."

You felt Francis's stubble rub into your neck and his warm lips softly caressing your skin.

"..."

"Please, ma cher. If I could go back in time I would. But how can you blame me? I love you so much sometimes I wish Matthew- he-"

Francis sniffled slightly and you felt hot tears on your neck. Was he crying? The womanizer who picked up girls in the blink of an eye was crying over one?

You soothingly shushed him and brushed a hand through his now disoriented hair. After a few moments you murmured a yes to him. He smiled slightly into your skin and you let him cuddle you for awhile. He didn't budge even after his class started, and he came to it twenty or so minutes late.

~XxX~

"Matthieu, this is mon amour."

You glanced up at Matthew and gave him a smile. He lowered his gaze but didn't seem to happy. He was polite nevertheless and held his emotions back. Francis seemed to notice asked Matthew why he was so upset. Matthew glanced at me before speaking to Francis.

"Why do I have to meet them? You always get rid of them. And none of them like me. They're the reason I never get to see you."

Francis gave a small gulp and placed his hands on his son's shoulders.

"Matthieu, it's my fault you never see me. And this one is different. I'm serious about her. I'll never bring another women home besides her, okay?"

The young child slowly glanced up at you again then clung to Francis's leg. Francis gave a laugh before picking up his son. Francis's blue eyes seemed to be bright with happiness and he swayed his child slightly. You saw him in a whole new light, and you loved this side of him just as much as the others.

Eventually Matthew slowly reached out for you and you caught his small hand. He then gave a shy smile.

"Mama?"

Francis's eyes went wide then he gave a small chuckle.

"Oui, ma cheri. Will you be part of our family?"

You watched Francis pull out a small white box and Matthew opened it as Francis had his other arm and hand around the boy. The diamond glimmered in the light as you gave a tearful yet happy nod.

Matthew placed the ring on you, making you smile at the young child. You kissed his forehead then pressed your lips against Francis, careful not to squish the young boy between you two.

"Then I guess we're a family."

"Je t'aime, ma cherie."

"Je t'aime, mama."


End file.
